Hollowpoint
by Marcus Reyner
Summary: A newly-successful gun designer enlists Rally's help when he finds out his partner has been selling his wares to unsavory customers.
1. Load

_Ding ding!_

The door's bell chimed softly as Lucas Wright entered the shop. Gunsmith Cats. He had heard a lot about it, all good. Touted as the best gun shop in Illinois, if not the entire country.

A pretty young lady was stacking ammunition boxes behind the counter, whistling a tune as she stacked them.

"Uh, Miss?" he started. She turned to face him. There was something familiar about her, but Lucas couldn't place what.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Um, yeah, could I speak to the proprietor, please? A Rally..." he trailed off as he realized where he knew this woman from. "Irene?"

She cocked her head, confused.

"Sir?"

"Irene Vincent! Oh, man, it's been a while."

She stared at him, not recognizing him.

"Lucas Wright! We grew up together! Christ, I can't believe you don't remember me!"

She finally recognized him, and smiled.

"Lucas! Wow, it HAS been a long time."

"Yeah... We should have a drink sometime, catch up. Anyways, not that I didn't enjoy getting sidetracked, but I have to speak to the proprietor. You related to this... 'Rally' Vincent?"

Irene beamed proudly.

"I AM Rally. What can I do for you, Lucas?"

"Well, I have a business proposition. I am the CEO of Wright On Target, and we're looking around for places to sell our new rifle, the Bullpup Rifle 5.56."

"Is that what you have in your case?" Irene asked, pointing to the rifle case Lucas was carrying.

"Yep. First model." he said, placing the case on the counter and opening it. "I hear you have a range here. I brought my own ammo, you want to give it a mag or two?

Irene shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

She escorted him to the range in the back.

Lucas took out the rifle and loaded in a magazine.

"Takes STANAGs, PMAGs, anything an AR-15 can take. Hell, if the ergonomics would allow, it could take Beta-Cs. Takes 5.56 and .223 without a barrel change, just like any AR-15. It's got a 22-inch barrel, overall length of 27 inches. It comes with a Phantom flash hider standard, an optional tri-rail handguard, and an ambidextrous charging handle. It uses a gas piston with an adjustable gas system similar to the SIG 556, and shoots light as a feather. We got Spec Ops trying out an integrally-suppressed variant, like the SEALs, Green Berets, we got Marines and Army both lookin' at this thing for infantry. Four SRT teams have already gotten on board with buying this rifle for their departments!"

He handed the rifle to Irene, along with a pair of Surefire EP4 earplugs, putting in his own pair.

"Impressive." she said, flipping the safety off and sighting it downrange.

"RANGE IS HOT!" She yelled.

**_BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!_** Three rounds in the 10-ring.

"THAT OPTIC IS RATED TO HOLD ZERO ON A MA DEUCE!" Lucas yelled over the echo of the shots. "WE'VE TESTED IT!"

_**BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!**_ Three in the head.

She flipped the safety back on and removed her earpro.

"Good shooting!" Lucas said, whistling.

"Recoil reminds me of the old AR7. I'm sold. I want one."

"You'll get one. Free of charge, old friend discount. Hell, it's good PR anyways. If you like the rifle enough to advertise it, we'll more than make up for the loss of giving you a free one."

Irene laughed as she put the rifle back in its case.

"Listen to you, you sound like a real businessman!"

"Yeah. Don't worry, it doesn't happen very often." Lucas said, chuckling.

"You got any other products?" She asked.

Lucas pulled up the side of his shirt to reveal his pistol, safely tucked in Bianchi leather.

"The WT9. It's a Browning camlock based pistol, but what makes it stand out is the quality of the steel we use, and the ergonomics. It can also shoot a quarter-sized hole at 60 yards, and can put an entire 16-round mag in a nickel-sized hole at 25. I like to feed it +P JHPs. Want to give it a shot? First mag's free." he said, grinning as he slid the gun out of the holster.

Irene carefully took the gun, checking the chamber and flipping the safety off.

"RANGE IS HOT!" she yelled, putting her earpro back in.

_**BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!**_ All through one hole.

"God damn, Irene. You're still the best shot I've ever met."

"It's a good gun, Lucas. You should be proud." She said, safing the pistol and offering it back to Lucas.

"Proud enough to carry it. This one is the first production model. We also offer it in .45 and .40 Smith. We offer it with and without rails. I like it without, myself."

"I might consider getting one. How much do they go for?"

"I take it you'll sell my wares?" Lucas asked.

Irene nodded.

"Of course. I sell things I would buy myself, and I would buy this stuff in a heartbeat."

"We sell them direct from the factory for about $650. Comes with an extra barrel and three magazines. Railed one goes for $700 with the same extras."

"And how much should I charge customers for the rifle?" she asked, eyeing it in a manner that was almost sensual.

"We sell 'em for $1600. That comes with an extra barrel, four mags, the optional railed handguards, and some rail covers. The optic sells separate for $300."

"I'll be sure to check it out." she said, opening the door back into the shop. "My 870 could use a tough optic."

"I really appreciate this, Irene." Lucas said, heading through the door.

"No problem." she replied, turning to close the door.

"So how about that drink? You free anytime soon?" Lucas asked.

She locked the door with a loud _CLICK._

"I dunno, Lucas... I'm pretty busy."

"Oh, come on, Irene, It's been, what, like, 7 years? Tell you what, how about we make a bet? A round of trap shooting at 25 yards. You win, I donate a glass Kalashnikov of vodka."

Irene turned, smirking.

"You're on."


	2. Trap

"You sure you want to do this?" Irene asked.

Lucas loaded his Beretta AL391, nodding.

"Hell yeah. Why, you scared you'll have to have a drink with me?"

"Alright, I'm just warning you, Kalashnikov vodka is pretty expensive to import. Especially in the glass AK." she said, loading up a Remington 1100.

"I know, I've got one." he replied.

"Ooh, big spender, huh?" she chided.

"Yeah, if it weren't for Jim Thomas, my company would probably have gone bankrupt by now."

"Jim Thomas? You mean the kid who you got in that fight with over dating Jenna Alvera?"

"Yep. He ended up marrying her and having two kids." Lucas said, flipping the shotgun's safety on and closing the trunk of his Ford Explorer.

"Huh. Always thought she'd go for you." Irene said.

"Ah, it wasn't really as involved as I made it out to be. Jenna wasn't really my type, I just didn't think she was Jim's type, so I kept giving him a hard time over it. He just thought I liked her, too. I mean, yeah, she was a cute girl, and now a beautiful woman, but she never could stand my interest in guns. I could never live with a woman who wouldn't support my love of the shooting sports. She almost divorced Jim when he started working for Wright On Target."

The range was deserted, save for the rangemaster. Lucas and Irene signed in, and readied their shotguns and earpro.

"RANGE IS HOT!" the rangemaster yelled.

"Ladies first." Lucas said.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

The clay flew past.

_**BOOM!**_

It shattered into pieces.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay barely got out of the gate before it shattered.

"Be careful, kid, let it get some air first!" the rangemaster shouted.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay got four feet before it exploded.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

Another hit.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

**_BOOM!_**

The clay shattered very close to the ground.

"Almost lost that one, Irene!" Lucas laughed. "PULL!"

_**BOOM!**_

The clay didn't shatter until it hit the ground.

"What was that, Lucas?" Irene asked sarcastically.

"Shit." he chuckled, shaking his head. He loaded another three rounds into the gun.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay shattered at the peak of its curve.

"Beautiful shot!" the rangemaster marveled.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay shattered right before it hit the ground.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

**_BOOM!_**

The clay hit the ground and shattered. She had missed.

"Crap." she muttered, shaking her head.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

Right at the peak of the throw.

"Nice." Irene said. "PULL!"

_**BOOM!**_

The shot nicked it, and it split in half.

"Damn, I shouldn't give you the point. But I will." the rangemaster said.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled, dropping a round into the chamber.

_**BOOM!**_

The pigeon exploded.

"Nice one!" the rangemaster shouted.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay shattered.

"Nice." Lucas said, loading his shotgun full again. "PULL!"

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay hit the ground and shattered. She had missed again.

"Dammit." she muttered.

"PULL!" Lucas yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay shattered.

"PULL!" Irene shouted.

_**BOOM!**_

The pigeon exploded.

"PULL!" Lucas shouted.

_**BOOM!**_

He missed.

"Shit." he said, shaking his head.

"PULL!" Irene yelled.

_**BOOM!**_

The clay exploded.

"Nice!" Lucas shouted, topping off his load. "PULL!"

The pigeon broke in half before it left the gate. One skimmed above the ground, the other went high.

_**BOOM! BOOM!**_

Lucas hit both halves.

"Holy crap, Lucas! Nice!" Irene said,

"Great shooting, kid!" the rangemaster roared.

Lucas lowered the shotgun, awestruck at his own achievement.

"Holy shit. I didn't even know I could do that." he muttered.

"Looks like you outshot me, Lucas. Revel in it, because it's not going to happen again." Irene said, patting Lucas on the back, and putting the 1100 in its case.

Lucas grinned while he put his AL391 away.

"So when are you free next?"

"Ah, tomorrow at 9. You can pick me up at my house, I'll need to get ready."

"Make sure your perfume is Hoppes #9. That's the sexiest smell a woman can have."

Irene laughed.

"It's just a drink, Lucas. I'm not going to wear a slinky dress for you or anything."

"Aw, that's a damn shame." he said, smirking.


	3. Another Day At The Office

"Lucas!" Jim's voice was sharp, and angry, ripping Lucas out of his daydreaming.

"Yeah, Jim, whaddaya need?" Lucas asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I need you to goddamn listen when I'm talking you! Where were you just now?"

"Ah, just reminiscing." Lucas said, trying to dodge the question.

"About?"

"Nothing. What did I miss, Jim?"

Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm saying I'm not entirely sure we can keep up with the demand of both the LEO market and the civilian market with the equipment we have, so I brought in more people and supplies."

"Good, Jim, real good. So what's the problem?"

"Well, we still might not have enough profit to justify the costs. We're gonna have to raise the price for the LEOs."

"They already paid us, Jim, I'm not gonna go to Uncle Sam and say, 'hey, we need more money to make sure your troops can all get a rifle that can increase their chances of survival, even though you've already paid us an agreed-upon price'".

"Then we have to raise the MSRP." Jim said.

"That's even worse!" Lucas said, raising his voice.

"Lucas, we have to get the money somewhere!"

"Fuck, Jim, I'm not the one who brought in excess people and equipment! Why don't you do your job and deal with it?"

Jim shook his head, exasperated.

"God dammit, Lucas... If it weren't for me, you'd run this company into the ground. You just remember that!"

He stormed off.

Lucas watched him leave, and felt a pang of guilt. Jim was right, it was only because of him that the company was still afloat. But he couldn't raise the price after he had sold a product.

He sighed, and tried to stay optimistic. Maybe things would pick up tonight.


End file.
